


Living with Kyoya

by aya_modj (ariales)



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-11
Updated: 2007-09-11
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:57:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariales/pseuds/aya_modj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living with Kyoya was not as awful as she first thought it would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Life with Kyoya

**Author's Note:**

> Posting here for archiving purposes. Beta by warmsugar from FFnet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life with Kyoya

 

 

Living with Kyoya for three years now was not as awful as she first thought it would be. Despite the quirks and demands the Ootori heir is known for, she could almost say that she didn’t regret the decision she made in choosing Kyoya. Of course he still gets into her head sometimes, but she has learned to shrug it off. Kyoya _is_ Kyoya after all.

 

* * *

“Haruhi.”

“Hmm?”

“I want to remind you about that party in Tokyo next week. Almost all those from the high society will be there. I assume you’ve already chosen a dress, right?”

“…”

“Haruhi.”

_Blink._ “I’m sorry Kyoya. I don’t think I can make it. I have a new case coming up, you know.”

“There will be a lot of ootoro there.”

Pause. “Kyoya…” Sigh. “Do you really think that would still work? We have a stack of ootoro in the fridge, remember?” She straightened up. “And just so you know even if we didn’t, doesn’t mean I’m going to go to that party," she added indignantly.

“Hmm…” _Pushed up glasses_. “I see.”

 

* * *

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“That.” Haruhi pointed at a vase eight inches high being carefully carried inside the living room.

“That,” Kyoya replied, "is a 12th Chinese dynasty vase, a very fine piece of glazed pottery that has survived until now. Beautiful isn’t it?”

She swallowed. “Why is it being placed in the middle of the room?” she asked nervously, voice unusually high-pitched.

“To be appreciated by everyone. It’s very expensive furniture. Cost me a lot of millions.” He turned. “Just make sure no one goes around touching it. It’s a very fragile treasure.”

 

* * *

The crash, she felt, resonated throughout the whole Ootori mansion. But nothing could defeat the sound of her heart pounding as she realized someone was standing a few feet behind her. She slowly turned around, trying to clear her face from the guilt that was burning inside her.

“That’s a ten million loss, Haruhi,” Kyoya deadpanned.

“…”

He pushed up his glasses. “And a piece of history as well.”

“Kyoya, I –”

“Well. We’ll just have to talk about the damage later. Right now I have business to attend to.” He turned and left a gaping Haruhi behind.

She could only blink. Was he… _smirking_?

 

* * *

“You have a very beautiful wife, Mr. Ootori.”

Kyoya glanced at the food table where Haruhi was, wearing another Hitachiin original.

“Yes. I know.”

“I thought she wasn’t into this kind of thing.”

Kyoya pushed up his glasses and merely smiled.

“There are… ways of convincing her. Haruhi is very fond of history.”


	2. A FATHER AND DAUGHTER TALK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranka and Haruhi talk about Kyoya

 

Ranka smiled at her after taking a bite from the homemade cookies Haruhi brought. “It’s delicious Haruhi. Did you really make this for me?”

She paused from washing the dishes and nodded. “I’ve got nothing else to do and the kitchen was full of the ingredients anyway.”

“Oohhh… my cute daughter is not only a top lawyer but a great cook as well. Kyoya-kun must be so happy to have you,” Ranka gushed.

“Hmm…”

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“No, not really.” She grabbed the towel and began to dry her hands. “It’s just he didn’t want me to bake them.”

“Didn’t want you to bake them?” he echoed incredulously. A vein popped out at his temple. “What, he didn’t think my cute daughter could cook? Do you want me to give him a piece of my mind? Because I would have a lot to say to that man!”

“It’s okay dad.”

“Okay? It’s not okay.” He buried his face in his hands. “Oohhh… and I thought he was the one I could trust to take care of you. Had I known I would have talked to those wonderful twins you’re friends with, or that gorgeous quiet guy, or that cute little boy, or that idiotic –” He paused. “Well. I really thought I made the right choice, you know.” He watched Haruhi who was sitting down across him as she ate a cookie. “Why did he say that anyway?” he asked curiously.

She shrugged. “He said I should have just ordered ten boxes from the pastry store in Tokyo, or I should have ordered the maids to bake it for me.”

“Oh.” Ranka’s eyebrow rose. “So why didn’t you?”

“It wouldn’t be homemade if I ordered it and it wouldn’t be special if I just let others to do it for me,” she replied, looking as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And the weird thing is he got angry at me after tasting them. It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No, it definitely –” Ranka blinked. “Haruhi, what’s that on your finger?”

She glanced at her hand. “Oh this?” She raised her right pinky and shrugged. “I got a little burnt while I was taking the cookies out of the oven.”

“Did he see that after tasting them?”

“I suppose so.”

Ranka leaned back and smiled. “Oh. I guess I made the right choice after all.”

Haruhi looked at him confused.

* * *

“Haruhi, are you happy?”

She looked at her father. “Of course I am. I’ve got a great job and I’ve won every case I had.”

“I mean, are you happy being with Kyoya?”

“Well…” she pondered at the question. “I suppose so.”

Ranka suddenly felt bad for Kyoya. Haruhi’s tongue can be so sharp sometimes. “You’re not sure?”

“He’s been really kind to me and he gives me everything.” She made a face. “Even things that I really don’t need. But I guess that’s just his upbringing.”

“Well you know, Kyoya-kun is a really nice boy, very generous. I mean,” Ranka’s eyes were filled with memories. “Why, I remember when he gave me a ticket to France so I could go visit the place, and when he paid for that new TV set I’ve been wanting and – ”

“Ticket to France? TV set?” Haruhi frowned. “I thought that came from the bonus you got from your job.”

Ranka froze before chuckling hastily. “Of course, of course. How silly of me.” He stood up and went to sit beside her. “Tell me Haruhi, what’s Kyoya-kun like?”

She paused for a moment, a finger on her cheek. “Kyoya is…”

“Yes?” Ranka leaned forward.

“Kyoya is Kyoya.”

Silence.

“Do you love him?” Ranka asked.

“Of course I do,” she replied automatically. “Or I wouldn’t have married Kyoya even though you practically sold me to him,” she added meaningfully.

“Oh come on,” Ranka waved her last comment off. “You can tell me stories you know,” he pressed. “I wouldn’t tell.”

“I really don’t have anything to share.”

“Impossible. Living with Ootori Kyoya must not be _that_ boring. You can tell me anything… like… when did you first realize you loved him?”

“When? Hmm…” She frowned, forehead crunched in concentration.

Ranka waited expectantly.

“Hmm…”

The minutes passed by.

She looked up. “When did I…”

Ranka stifled a yawn.

“Haruhi?” he called, wondering if she had fallen asleep. Then she brought her fist down her palm.

“Ootoro.”

“Excuse me?” Ranka sweatdropped.

Haruhi looked at him. “When he brought me to that floating restaurant where they sell seafood. Everything was so delicious. I couldn’t pick a favorite – although their ootoro was really exquisite. We should go there sometime.” She smiled dreamily at the memory before blinking. “Oh yeah, I forgot. And later that day he proposed to me.”

“You forgot?” he cracked, disbelief dancing in his face. He stared at her, wondering how long he had been fathering a gluttonous daughter.

“Huh?” Haruhi looked at him. Once again, he felt sorry for the youngest Ootori heir.

“Never mind.” He stood up and shakily walked back to his room. “I think I need a rest. Just… say hi to Kyoya-kun for me.”

* * *

“That floating restaurant, huh?” Kyoya mused as he watched the scene his hidden cameras had recorded. He picked up his cellphone and began to dial. He waited for the other line to pick up.

“This is Ootori Kyoya. I would like to make a reservation for two…”


	3. Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruhi is running late with her appointment with Kyoya

 

Haruhi was humming softly as she slipped inside her car. She turned on the ignition, ready to go, when she heard a weird wheezing sound before the engine suddenly died.

“Eh?”

She tried the ignition again, before finally realizing what that noise she had heard earlier meant.

“This is not good.”

* * *

She looked at her watch and saw in horror what it read. She was already ten minutes late for her rendezvous with Kyoya and she was already dreading a week’s worth of conscience torture.

“Why is there not one taxi stopping?” she panicked, breathing heavily. “I know everyone is busy but this is ridiculous.” She flagged down an empty cab – then another - but no one even gave her a second glance.

“Just one taxi. Please,” she begged no one in particular.

Finally, it seemed that Heaven pitied her. A yellow cab slowly stopped in front her. She looked at the sky, said a little prayer and quickly got in.

“I’m saved.”

* * *

Kyoya wasn’t picking his phone up. _Is he already mad?_ She wondered anxiously. If he would just answer, he’d understand why she’d be late. Maybe he wouldn’t give her too much of a hard time once she-

“Oh no.”

Haruhi dreaded the tone the taxi driver used. “What is it?” she asked, looking up.

The taxi driver glanced at her sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I thought that if I use this shortcut, we’ll arrive at the restaurant in no time, but…”

The pounding of her heart deafened her ears as she looked outside the window. They were caught in the middle of a traffic jam caused by something huge – like a big, black truck – blocking the intersection. She felt her jaw drop in disbelief as the phone on the other line continued to ring.

* * *

Kyoya gave a sigh of relief as he saw Haruhi quickly making her way to his limo. He stepped out to meet her.

“You’re late.”

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “My car broke down, I couldn’t – _pants_ \- get a ride and we were caught in traffic.”

He stared at her flushed face and almost felt sorry for the admonishment he was about to give her. He turned around and lightly pushed his glasses up. Well, almost.

“Don’t worry, I’m not blaming you.” He paused. “Although I would just like to remind that it was you who practically forced me to come to this… birthday party of your colleague. I’m sure you know what a busy man I am and that time is very important in our business. I just hope I’m going to enjoy this and that my two-hour wait was worth it. But other than that, there’s no problem.”

He looked over his shoulder to smile at her. “Okay?”

 _Mother in Heaven, what have I done wrong?_ Haruhi wondered, twitching.

* * *

The taxi driver watched as Kyoya and Haruhi entered the restaurant. He really felt sorry for her. She was such a kind woman.

He lowered his cap over his eyes and began to drive away.

But an order is an order.

* * *

**_Earlier that afternoon…_ **

“You mean that’s today?” Kyoya looked at her sharply.

His new secretary gulped nervously. “Y-Yes sir.”

“Cancel it. I have to go somewhere with Haruhi.”

“But sir, you’ve already cancelled this meeting twice. The board members would not like this.”

He glared at her and she whimpered in fear. He knew she was right, but what should he do?

“Izumi.”

She stepped back in instinct. An irritated Kyoya is never a good omen. “Yes sir?” she asked timidly.

“How long with this take me?”

“An hour or two, sir.”

He sighed. “You may go.” Izumi never followed an order as happily as she did that time. Kyoya picked up his phone and speed-dialed Haruhi’s office.

“This is Kyoya. Mobilize the Ootori police force… I don’t care if you still have to finish the paperwork she gave you. You were – and still are- the captain of this army before you became her secretary… Good… I want you to delay her for at least an hour and a half… I know she’s excited about this day but that has nothing to do with my order, does it? I’m glad we understand each other.”

Well, if he was being forced to sit through a commoner’s party he might as well have Haruhi enjoy it as much as he would. After all, a guilty-looking and flustered Haruhi, who looked so adorable when she panicked— never failed to amuse him. 

 


	4. Only Haruhi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruhi was in a foul mood.

 

Haruhi was in a foul mood. Everyone inside the quaint restaurant could feel the ominous aura surrounding her that reached even inside the cold kitchen. But no one dared to open his or her mouths to comment on it because her husband, Ootori Kyoya, was sitting beside her after all. They all value their business status – more importantly their _lives_ – and no one would dare risk annoy the young heir.

Kyoya wouldn’t have spoken about Haruhi’s tantrum too if not for the uneasy tension in the air that was messing with his plan. Across them sat the prospective business partner he had been working with for a couple of months now. The closing of a promising business deal was on the line. He cleared his throat.

“Haruhi,” he began calmly,” you’re ruining everyone’s dinner.”

A pair of brown eyes flashed dangerously at him. “Who’s ruining what?” she asked through gritted teeth.

Everyone who was sitting within a five-meter radius quickly backed away. Kyoya pushed up his glasses.

“Are you still angry? I already apologized, didn’t I?”

“And who told you I’m still angry?” she snapped. “I’m not.”

Somewhere across the street, a lamppost suddenly burst. Kyoya glanced at her plate. The mutilated crabs were pushed to the side and the strawberry cake, which was baked especially for her, was untouched. If this goes on, he could kiss the deal goodbye.

“I already said I’m sorry. Listen Haruhi, this deal is very important to me. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t sabotage this night.”

She glared at him. He did his darnedest to look sincere.

“Anything?” she repeated slowly.

The unusual glint in her eyes made Ootori Kyoya hesitate, but not too long. A fuming Haruhi was never, never a good sight for business. He nodded.

“Anything.”

Haruhi slowly smiled up at him. Kyoya felt a strange sense of foreboding.

* * *

The servants of the OotoriMansion believed in miracles. They had seen and lived through such marvels ever since a Fujioka Haruhi was first introduced into the family. The next morning was no exception. A couple of the cleaning maids did a double take when they saw the young Master going down the stairs, already dressed up.

After all, Ootori Kyoya already awake as early as eight AM and not in a bad mood was indeed a miracle.

“You’re up early today, young Master,” greeted one of them. Of course someone had to greet him. The other one was still in a state of shock.

“Yes. I had a… wake-up call,” he said dryly as Haruhi walked past him.

“Come on,” she urged, looking up at him expectantly. Kyoya could only sigh.

* * *

“Why can’t we just go inside that restaurant?” Kyoya pressed. “At least then we’d know where our tea came from, unlike from _that_.” He muttered, staring at her pointedly. “Who knows what bacteria we could get from that thing?” He frowned. “I bet it doesn’t even have insurance.”

“What are you talking about?” She gave him a strange look. “It’s just a vending machine.”

He glared at the offending apparatus. “Well it doesn’t look very sanitary to me.”

Haruhi rolled her eyes. “Never mind. Just give me some quarters so I can get us some drinks.” She held out her hand.

“Quarters?”

“Yes.”

He plucked a gold card from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. She blinked at his hand.

“Kyoya, this isn’t like a cash register. You can’t use your credit card here.”

He stopped short and stared at her hard. “You mean there are still places that don’t accept cards?” he asked in utter disbelief. He glanced at the machine thoughtfully. “Hmm…”

She sighed and took out her own purse.

“Is this really popular among commoners?” he asked as she watched her put some coins in the slot.

“Eh?” She shrugged. “I think so.”

“Tell me again why I agreed to go with you here,” Kyoya murmured as he looked around the mall, trying to find something else interesting.

“Because you said you’d do anything. And I’ve wanted to watch this movie since last week.”

“That’s why I told you we should just wait for the DVD to come out.”

“And besides,” she continued, blithely ignoring his words. “You definitely need a break from all that work.”

His attention was drawn to the can of juice rolling out of the slot. He watched in quiet fascination as she picked it up and handed it to him. “Here.”

Kyoya accepted her offer grudgingly.

* * *

“Haruhi, what do you call that?”

She stopped and followed his gaze. “That’s a neo print, like, you know a photo booth. You insert some coins and it will take your picture and you can put them on stickers too.”

He stared at the sample pictures posted on the booth’s wall, then at a couple more someone jokingly stuck on the trash bin. “Why would anyone want to have their faces on a sticker?”

Haruhi smiled. “Maybe they just feel like it.” She took his hand. “Come on. Let’s try it out.”

A flicker of emotion ran across his face. “No.”

“Party pooper,” she teased, poking him on the side.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead doing that,” he declared as he turned around. “Let’s go Haruhi, before anyone sees us. It would – “

A hand gripped his wrist tightly. “Kyoya.”

A chill ran down his spine as he looked at her and saw that same glint in her eyes she wore last night.

“You promised.”

* * *

“Oh look, you’re so cute here Kyoya,” Haruhi gushed as they looked at the finished pictures.

“Hmm…” He pushed his glasses up and quickened his pace. She hurried after him.

“Where are you going? We’re still going to watch the movie, remember?” Haruhi frowned.

“I remember. That’s why we’re headed for the cinemas right now,” he replied wearily. And as Haruhi paused to peer inside a window store, Kyoya knew he had learned a valuable lesson. Never would he irk Ootori Haruhi by leaving the fridge empty of ootoro ever again.

 


	5. Valentine’s Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Valentine’s Day but Haruhi is sick.

 

Ootori Kyoya was the type of person who always planned ahead. He didn’t believe in letting things go by as they happen.

He knows that if you want something, you should do everything in your power to get it. But sometimes, even the power of the Shadow King could not control everything in this world. Like Haruhi’s cold, for example.

He noticed it as Haruhi stared longingly at the can of ice cream in the fridge during breakfast.

“Instead of melting that with your gaze, why don’t you take it out and eat it?” Kyoya suggested, eyeing her over the newspaper he was holding.

“I can’t,” she sniffed. “I hab a cod.”

He immediately dropped the paper on the table and stared at her. “You’re not feeling well?”

She coughed in reply.

“Does that mean you can’t go with me to the business party tomorrow night?” he demanded.

She nodded miserably.

He leaned back on the chair, looking awfully worried. “And here I thought I could finally convince Mr. Cheng for a deal,” he murmured.

“So I wad needed only for bisnes”, she muttered. “You cud till go, you no.”

“Well, he’s quite a sucker for commoner things. I thought that if you tell him stories and charm him with your commoner ways, he’ll be more than willing to deal with me.” He frowned at her. “But you have to go and catch a cold.”

“Id’s nod like I wan-ned to,” she protested, rubbing her already red nose.

He sighed. “Looks like I have to think of another plan.”

She sneezed.

“Have you taken something for that already?” he asked.

“Yed.”

He stared at her with her red nose and pale cheeks. He stood up, headed for the cabinet on the side and returned holding a box with the Ootori mark on the front.

“Here. This contains the most effective medicine for common colds,” he said as he placed it in front of her. She looked at the box then at him, a surprised look on her face.

“Tank you,” she murmured.

“Don’t mention it.” He pushed up his glasses. “I just don’t want to catch it from you.”

“Ah.” She sighed. “I dee.”

* * *

Kyoya nodded at the greetings he received as he headed for his office the next morning. He frowned as he looked around, taking in the ambiance and design of his surroundings. But he didn’t bother to comment on it anymore. As long as everyone was doing their job, it didn’t matter what they wear or do.

He was checking his emails when his secretary entered the room.

“Excuse me sir. There was a call from the Business magazine asking if they could have an interview with you. You’re free on Wednesday afternoon, around two to five. Would you like to accommodate them?”

He paused, thinking about it. “Sure. That would be fine.”

“Yes sir.”

“Izumi.”

“Yes?”

“Why is almost everyone wearing red? Is this some kind of a new dress code?”

She stifled a grin. “Uh, no sir. Actually, today is Valentine’s Day. I guess everyone just wanted to get in the mood.”

Valentine’s Day. His eyes briefly glanced at the calendar on the table before frowning. Of course. Back in the Host Club, this day was the busiest day of the year. Swooning girls everywhere… hosts working in full mode… lots of merchandise sold… How could he have forgotten it? Was he working that hard?

“You may go.”

She left the room with a very thoughtful Kyoya inside it. He wondered if Haruhi even remembered what day it was. Probably not. A plan suddenly formed in his mind as he slowly picked up the phone.

* * *

He found her sitting on the bed with a very thick law book on her hands. She was too engrossed in what she was reading that she didn’t notice him as he walked towards her.

“Haruhi.” She quickly looked up. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. The medicine you gave me was quite potent. And besides,” she looked at him meaningfully, “it seems that everyone here was under strict orders to not let me do anything but rest. I can’t even go out of this room.”

He pushed his glasses up. “Is that so?”

She sighed. “What are you doing here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be going to that business party?”

“How are you feeling?” he asked abruptly.

“Better than yesterday. Why aren’t you -?”

“Then let’s go. I have something to show you.”

“Huh?”

* * *

The cost of the decorations that filled the entire Ootori Hall and the fountain situated in the middle was more than an average person’s yearly salary. The curtains and lights were about a six-month pay, while the twenty-person orchestra and the caterers from an international restaurant’s worth were… well, worth more than anything Haruhi could ever imagine. Flowers adorned the walls, its scents filling the air. But it was the look on her face as she saw the transformation of the empty Ootori Hall into a beautiful, almost fairytale-like setting that convinced Kyoya his plan was working.

“Haruhi?” he prompted.

“Where am I?” she muttered as the orchestra began to play.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, you know.”

“I know that, Kyoya. But really, you shouldn’t have gone through all this,” she said exasperated. “Just how much did you spend for this night? I mean, renting an orchestra for crying out loud. Do you think rich people like you can just throw away your money like some – ”

He gently turned her around. “And that’s the buffet table. I’ve ordered the best seafood cuisine just for this night.”

Haruhi’s eyes widened at the piles of dishes across her, all glittering and tempting in her eyes.

“Well.” He pushed up his glasses. “Since you couldn’t come to the party, I brought the party here for you.”

Haruhi slowly looked at him, eyes softening at what he had said (or probably because of the buffet table; Kyoya’s still not too sure). She smiled at him as her face radiated with pure happiness.

“Thank you.”

He merely pushed his glasses up again.

* * *

“May I have this dance?” Kyoya asked as he offered his hand. Haruhi looked up from her third plate that night and smiled at him. She placed her hand over his and they walked over to the dance floor. He gently placed one hand on her waist as the other held her hand tightly. Suddenly, rose petals began to slowly fall on them, like soft snow during winter. He could almost read what was running through her mind, as she looked at the ceiling in awed disbelief.

“When did you plan all this?” she asked curiously.

“This morning.”

“And you managed all of this within hours?” she asked incredulously.

“I’ve had my practice.”

She looked at him confused.

“In case you have forgotten, I was the one handling jobs like this back in the Host Club.”

A look of understanding crossed her face. “Ah. Of course. But didn’t you want to talk to that Mr. Cheng? What will happen to the deal?”

“Well…” Kyoya paused, pondering at the question. “I have no idea when it comes to commoner things and anyway, I could talk to him any day I want. Besides this day only happens once a year. Might as well celebrate it with you, ” he added, almost reluctantly.

She blinked.

They fell silent as they continued to dance. He could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo and felt the softness of her hand against his cold ones. His grip tightened.

“I have a gift for you too,” Haruhi said suddenly. Kyoya stopped to look at her.

Now, that’s a surprise. He didn’t even know she considered Valentine’s as a holiday.

“You shouldn’t have.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. Although it took me a while before I managed to have it done.” She quickly went to get her present back in their room and returned after a minute. “Here.”

Kyoya accepted the rectangular black box from her and slowly began to unwrap it. He never expected Haruhi to do something like this. He had always thought that Haruhi has no romantic notions or whatsoever and that she was the type to scoff at a day like this one. The gift-wrap fell on the ground. He slowly opened the box and saw… eyeglasses exactly like his. He blinked. _Glasses?_

“Well?” She looked at him, waiting for a response.

Kyoya opened his mouth but found that he had nothing to say. He should have known to receive something like that from her. It wasn’t like he was expecting something more; it’s just that to receive a pair of glasses from your wife on Valentine’s Day was… well, different from most people’s experience. But Haruhi being Haruhi, it should be no surprise. He cleared his throat.

“Thank you,” was all he could manage. He gave her a small smile. “It’s…lovely.”

Haruhi’s shoulders dropped. “You don’t like it.”

“No. I do,” he replied, almost too quickly.

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of anything else to give you. You have everything.”

“It’s all right, Haruhi. No one has ever given me this before. I really find it… interesting.”

He didn’t know what the word _interesting_ meant in Haruhi’s vocabulary, but it seemed it was enough to reassure her. She gave him a smile, looking a bit relieved at what he said.

“I’m glad. I just thought that you would be happy to have that.”

“May I ask why you chose to give this to me?” he asked curiously.

She looked at him as if he should already know the answer. “Well, I thought that you need it.”

“I need it?”

“Yes.” She blinked at him. “It seems your glasses slip frequently so I had them tighten the screws so you won’t have to push them up all the time.” She did an innocent imitation of Kyoya pushing up his glasses. “See, I thought that maybe you need a new pair and I bought one for you.”

He stared at her. Hearing the reason, he felt it almost bordered on the absurd. But somehow, he knew it was her own way of showing her concern for him. And although the reason for that habit was _not_ because he needed a new pair, he pushed his glasses up and nodded.

“You’re right. It seems I do need them.” He took it off and put on the new one she bought. He glanced at her.

“It looks good,” she said.

So maybe he was still right about Haruhi having no romantic notions, but it was enough to make him feel they were on a real date and having Haruhi remember him on a day like this, well, it was already something. He took a step closer to her.

“Haruhi.”

“Hmm?”

“This is the best gift I’ve ever received.” A rare genuine smile filled his face before he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.”

Her hand rose to touch the spot where their skin met, blinking her wide, wide eyes. “You’re welcome,” she replied, smiling back.

He took her hand and they headed back to the table.

* * *

Kyoya was still awake at two in the morning. Beside him on the bed, Haruhi was sleeping soundly. He typed as quietly as he could on his laptop so as to not wake her up. He stifled a yawn before continuing with his computations.

So after all that was said and done, Kyoya’s bank account obtained a loss of 750,000 yen. From the imported roses down to the lights, from the furniture and the fountain, from the caterers and the orchestra – he knew it was not going to be cheap. A sigh escaped his lips. But he did not regret spending a single cent.

Haruhi stirred in her sleep and turned facing him. Kyoya watched her, a peaceful look on her face. A lock of brown hair covered her eyes and he tentatively brushed it away with his hand. His gaze was drawn to the bedside table where the box of his new glasses was lying on. He shut his laptop and lay down. He wrapped an arm over Haruhi’s waist before closing his eyes to sleep.

Yes, everything was all worth it.

 


	6. THE MERITS OF MARRIAGE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoya and Haruhi talk about marriage

 

“Penny for your thoughts, Haruhi?”

Haruhi glanced at Kyoya who was busy typing in his laptop across the room. “I was just thinking about the wedding we attended this morning. Kyoya,” she frowned, “don’t you ever take a break from work? Every time I see you, you’re always working.”

“I am taking a break,” he replied. “What about the wedding?”

“The groom – he’s a friend of yours, right?”

“Asao? Merely a business acquaintance. What of him?”

“Well, it’s just,” she shrugged, “he doesn’t seem too happy that he’s getting married.”

“You think so?”

She nodded. “He was smiling but… he seemed sad.”

“You’re very sharp, Haruhi.”

“Do you know why?”

Kyoya paused. “I think it has something to do with the break-up he had with his long-time girlfriend a week before the wedding. She’s a commoner like you, coincidentally.”

“Eh? You mean the bride wasn’t his girlfriend?”

“No, it was simply an arranged marriage. He just met Hayori-san, his wife, recently. Didn’t you notice how happy his family was for him?”

“But why? Isn’t that – unfair?”

“You should know by know how rich families think, Haruhi. Marriage is just like any other business venture. When you sign the wedding contract, it’s as good as any business deal. It’s all about gaining from each other’s business status and fortune. After all, why would anyone want to spend their lifetime with someone they can’t gain anything from?”

“Well, you’re married to me,” she pointed out.

Kyoya glanced at her. “That’s… a different matter.”

“Why is it a different matter?” she persisted.

“Asao is not the kind of person who’s willing to do anything for something he wants to have,” he continued, pointedly ignoring her question. “He prefers to play it safe. Besides, marrying Hayori-san is the best and fastest solution to the financial crisis their family is experiencing right now.

“Kyoya…” Haruhi blinked. “How come you know all these things about Asao-san?” she asked suspiciously.

“In this competitive world we’re in, it’s always better to be prepared. And having a few shall we say– sources here and there, doesn’t hurt either.”

“Ah,” she twitched. “So you’re still collecting reports about other people.”

“Well, it’s always a good idea to have an edge over others, don’t you think?” He pushed his glasses up.

Haruhi sighed. She watched him quietly, his words still playing in her mind. She got up from the bed and walked towards the coffee table he was working on. She sat beside him.

“Kyoya.”

“Yes?”

“Why did you marry me?”

He paused. “Like I said, it’s all about gaining what you want or need from the other person.”

“But,” her forehead crunched in confusion, “what merit could you gain from marrying me?”

“A lot. Your odd commoner ways charm a lot of people, Haruhi, especially prospective business partners. It’s not everyday they get to meet a refined commoner like you. You actually give them a different view of your kind. And that is a very useful asset to the company.”

“Huh?”

“And of course, we all know what an excellent lawyer you are. I never had any doubts you would reach this status. Being married to you would save me the trouble of finding a good lawyer when the time comes. You wouldn’t ask me for payment, would you?”

She gritted her teeth. “No.”

At the back of her mind she knew she shouldn’t have asked him that question. The conversation was bound to come to this. _I guess it’s still all about merits_ , she thought, sighing. Kyoya is Kyoya even after all this time. She thought he had finished talking but Kyoya continued in a deadpan tone.

“And I suppose you’ll agree with me that the fact that you are the only woman my father approved of is enough of a reason already.”

“Ah… I guess.” She blinked. “I was the only one your father approved of?”

“Yes,” Kyoya replied wryly. “Isn’t that a surprise?”

“Kyoya,” she paused. “I’ve always thought your family was the conservative type, but now that you mentioned it… why didn’t your father just arranged a more… profitable marriage for you? I came from a simple family with a cross-dressing father. Isn’t that a bit different from the culture you’re used to?”

“Very different.” He nodded.

“So how come it was okay for you to marry a commoner?”

He regarded her carefully before answering. “The problem with most rich people is their fear of social rejection. They wouldn’t want to risk any form of social embarrassment. That is why I strived so hard to become the heir of the Ootori Empire. Do you know why?”

She thought about it. “Because of the bigger share in the family’s fortune?”

He blinked. “Well, partly. But mostly because once I become the head of the whole Ootori Empire, I can do whatever I want without having to worry about what others think. After all, who would dare question the judgment of the Ootori heir?”

She nodded. “No, no one would dare do that,” she agreed wholeheartedly.

“So when I married you, a simple commoner with no interesting background – ” Haruhi twitched, “ – no one spoke about it. It’s just a pity Asao does not like to plan for the future, which I fortunately did.”

Haruhi blinked. It sounded as if Kyoya had intended to marry her way before and that he deliberately planned all of it. Her lips curved in a small smile. Sometimes Kyoya could say such sweet things, unintentionally but that was typical of Kyoya.

“Kyoya, you know – ”

A sinister smile crept up his face but was gone so quickly she wondered if she really did see it.

“Besides,” he continued calmly, “it’s not like you do not have anything to gain from this marriage too.”

“Huh?”

“I’m pretty sure Ranka-san would agree.”

She straightened up. “What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you wondering that no one comes to pester him anymore for his debts?”

“No. He already paid all our debts as soon as we got married. And he promised me he won’t borrow money from those people again.”

“Is that so?” Kyoya pushed up his glasses. “I wonder where the money came from,” he murmured lightly.

She blanched. “What do you –”

“And before you forget – ” Kyoya turned the laptop to face her. Haruhi stared at the monitor, feeling goosebumps rise all over her skin. An excel sheet with rows of numbers blinked back at her. “You haven’t fully paid all your accounts back in the Host Club. If I did not use my position, you would still be in debt until now.”

Her jaw dropped. “No way,” she exclaimed. “I’m sure I paid all of it before I graduated. You said so yourself.”

“That’s because Tamaki could not bear the thought that his daughter would worry about money when you should be studying law. So I had to tell you that you had paid all your debts so you wouldn’t have to think about it too much. Quite considerate of us, actually.”

“But that’s – ”

He turned the laptop back to him. “Well, I was just pointing out the facts.”

* * *

Haruhi sighed in defeat. “Sometimes you’re too scary, Kyoya.”

The sound of typing stopped. He eyed her briefly before going back to work. “So why did you marry me?” he asked, an unusual tightness in his voice. But Haruhi did not seem to notice.

“Well…” She leaned back and glanced at the ceiling thoughtfully. “It’s because you proposed to me.”

Kyoya coughed. She looked at him in concern.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been working too hard,” she gently chided.

“No. I’m okay.” He straightened up as he faced her. “Haruhi, most people do not get married just because someone proposed to them. What if I never proposed to you the way I did? What if someone else did it instead, like Tamaki… or Mori-senpai… or Hikaru…” He trailed off, eyeglasses clouding. “Would you still have married for that reason if one them proposed to you instead of me?”

Haruhi cupped her chin. “Eh, well… hmm. Let’s see…”

Kyoya stared at her in disbelief. Was she really going to think about it? Somehow Kyoya knew he should feel insulted but Haruhi’s bluntness was nothing new to him. It still surprises, yes, but it was something he has learned to accept. He sighed.

“Never mind.” He turned his attention back to his laptop.

“No.”

He stopped. He slowly looked at her. “What did you say?”

“I said _no_ , I wouldn’t have accepted their proposal.”

“And why not?” he asked before he could stop himself. The Shadow King braced himself for another expected blunt answer. What would it be this time?

She blinked at him. “Because they’re not you.”

Silence.

Kyoya pushed his glasses up and faced the monitor.

Haruhi frowned and leaned forward. “Kyoya?” she called in concern.

“Haruhi.”

“Yes?”

“I forgot to tell you that Tamaki came by the office yesterday and sent a little gift for you. Could you kindly get it for me? It’s in the bag.”

“Okay.”

Kyoya waited until Haruhi was safely out of earshot before letting out the sigh he’s been hiding. An unbidden smile crept up his lips, relishing the warm feeling she had given him.

“ _Because they’re not you.”_

“That’s a rather interesting view, Haruhi,” he murmured, smiling. “But the best reason I’ve heard so far.”

* * *

“What is this thing anyway?” Haruhi asked warily as she held the bottle in front of her eyes. She was standing by the bedside table. Kyoya craned his neck to look at her.

“According to Tamaki, that’s an orange juice.”

She stared at the liquid swishing inside the bottle. “But it’s color brown.”

“Don’t act surprised.” Kyoya pushed his glasses up. “That’s Tamaki’s homemade juice. What can you expect?”

“Why did he give you this?”

“He wanted you to be the first one to taste it. It’s the first time he ever made something like that, so be kind.”

She quickly spun around. “You want me to taste this?” she repeated.

“Well… yes. If I remember correctly, he specifically told me to get your ‘commoner’s opinion’. Something to do with ‘ _the commoner’s simple fondness for drinking artificial flavors’_. Or something stupid like that.”

She twitched. “Ah, so I’ll be the poison tester.”

“Don’t be too harsh Haruhi. He actually wanted to come here to hear your opinion personally. But I managed to dissuade him.”

She frowned, imagining Tamaki jumping up and down as he forced her to drink up. “Thank goodness,” she muttered.

“Well, go on,” Kyoya told her. “He made that especially for you.”

“Why don’t you do it?” she retorted, as she glared at him. “He’s your best friend.”

His glasses clouded. “I prefer tea over juice. Besides, I’m sure Tamaki does not plan to kill you from poisoning.”

She cringed. “How thoughtful.”

There was really no problem with her tasting something others had worked hard for, but considering that it was Tamaki who made it, her hesitation was, according to Kyoya, logical. She eyed the brown liquid before gulping a handful of air. Kyoya watched her both in fascination and horror as she lifted the bottle to her lips and tasted a few drops.

He waited expectantly.

“Well?”

Haruhi blinked as she glanced at the juice.

“Haruhi?”

“It’s good,” she finally said. “There’s a little after-taste, but it’s good.” She tried another shot.

“Why don’t you try it?” she asked, offering the bottle at him. Kyoya lifted his eyebrow.

“I plan to reach my fiftieth birthday, Haruhi.”

She frowned. “Why is it that when I didn’t want to drink up, you were so confident about it not having poison, but now you have no qualms about refusing?”

He paused, thinking about it thoughtfully. “Well…”

She sighed.

Kyoya pushed up his glasses before he reluctantly stood up. He walked over to where she was. Haruhi took another gulp as if to reassure him it’s safe, before holding out the bottle for him.

“Here.”

Kyoya stared at her intently. There was a glimmer in his eyes before giving her a devilish smile.

“Haruhi,” he began, voice low, “you’re wondering what merit I could gain from marrying you, right? Let’s see.” He suddenly cupped her chin and caught her lips beneath his. He kissed her gently at first, then with more certainty. He pulled her close as he deepened the kiss. When he pulled back, Haruhi’s face was all flustered.

Kyoya pushed up his glasses, his face in full smirk mode.

“I suppose you’re right, Haruhi. It does taste good.” He turned and went back to his laptop, leaving Haruhi who stared after him. “I’m sure Tamaki would be glad to hear this.”

Haruhi touched her lips. She frowned, wondering why Kyoya had to do that when he could easily drink from the bottle. She sighed, unaware that a small smile was creeping up her face.

“Merits, Kyoya?” she murmured vaguely. “See, they are nothing like you.”


	7. WEAKNESS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoya's weakness

 

Haruhi was massaging her tired neck as she entered their bedroom. Something caught her eye. She stopped and gaped at an open door on the corner where a wall used to be. Her mind went to her days back in the Host Club where doors and giant furniture would suddenly appear from nowhere. The familiarity terrified her.

“Where did that came from?” she wondered aloud, eyebrows twitching. “I’m definitely sure that wasn’t there yesterday.” But curiosity got better of her and she quickly walked towards the mystery door. She peered inside cautiously and saw –

“Kyoya?”

He looked up from the thing he was holding. She let her eyes roam around and saw that it was no bigger than her old room in Ranka’s house. It was practically empty; besides the couch he was sitting on in the middle of the room, there wasn’t any more furniture except for the pile of boxes lined up at the side.

“You’re home early,” he remarked, his eyeglasses becoming opaque.

“Yeah. There’s a scheduled renovation in the office today. Kyoya, when did this room appear?”

He blinked at her. “What are you talking about? This room has always been here.”

“No. I’m pretty sure we didn’t have this before.”

“This has always been here, Haruhi.”

“But – ” Haruhi stopped short. No use arguing with him once he repeated something he had said. She sighed. “What is this room anyway?”

“A storage room.”

She wanted to point out that storage rooms did not just materialize out of nowhere, but she bit her tongue. She sat beside him on the couch.

“What’s that?”

Kyoya glanced at the photo album in his hands. “Just our pictures back in the Host Club.”

“Eh?” She leaned forward to get a better look. There was one photo of the twins running away from a powder-drenched Tamaki, another of Mori carrying a sleeping Honey in his arms, and finally, one of her and Kyoya as she stood over a broken teacup. She squirmed in her seat at that memory.

“Where did you get all these?” she asked as she turned the page.

“From the cameras in the school.”

Her hand stopped in midair. “There were cameras?”

“Where do you think some of the pictures in our Photo Collection series came from?”

She twitched. “How long have you been spying on us?”

“Spying?” He pushed his glasses up. “You wound me, Haruhi. I was merely collecting merchandises for our club.”

Her mouth opened but no words came out. She decided to drop it but not before she took a cautious glance around the storage room, wondering if there was one behind the white tiles capturing their every action. “Well, why are you looking at them anyway?”

“I’ve been reviewing.”

“Huh?”

“Tamaki insisted we have a get-together next Saturday. Everyone in the Host Club has already given their confirmations.”

“How come I wasn’t invited?”

He glanced at her. “It's a male night-out, he said.”

“What? Why?” she demanded.

“Well," he replied slowly, "I think they remembered that you’re my wife now. We all know how much they adore you and I don’t think some certain hosts can keep themselves from cuddling you like before. And so to avoid any problems, _someone_ suggested that you should not be included anymore,” he paused, eyeglasses clouding. He eyed her for a moment before pushing up his glasses. “Well. Tamaki agreed. He doesn’t want you to lose your concentration from work.”

She stared at him. “But...what’s there to review?”

“Their weaknesses.”

“Weaknesses?” She blinked.

“It’s better to be prepared. Who knows what can take place. Have you forgotten what chaos can occur when the Host Club get together?”

“I remember, but I don’t understand how their weaknesses has anything to do with all this.”

“Everything. Let me tell you a secret. Everyone has a weakness. Once you know how to exploit that, you can do anything you want. There are others whose weakness are far too easy to see while some need to be scrutinized from every angle, for every little detail. It’s a weapon Haruhi, one that can ultimately lead a person to his downfall or, if tended properly, to greatness. Think of it as a game. It’s all about using it to your advantage and to win in every situation before the other one can use it against you. ” Kyoya smiled at her.

A chill ran down her spine. She backed away from him. Just in case.

“So are you telling me you know mine?” she asked honestly. Kyoya gave a low chuckle.

“Actually, yours are the most blatant, Haruhi,” he told her.

She shuddered at the thought of Kyoya exploiting whatever obvious weaknesses he had found in her. Maybe it’s better to be more careful from now on.

“Well I suppose the high and mighty Kyoya would have one too, since you said everyone has it,” she said, meeting his thoughtful gaze. “But I have no idea what on earth could possibly make you vulnerable.”

Kyoya merely gave a smile that even the devil himself would be terrified of. She suddenly remembered why the Shadow King was aptly named for him.

“Why would you want to know?” he asked, eyebrow rising.

But before Haruhi could reply, Kyoya’s phone began to ring. “If you’ll excuse me, Haruhi. I have to take this call.”

Haruhi nodded and he quickly left the room. She glanced at the album beside her. “I wonder what they’re doing now,” she murmured as she looked at the Host Club photos. She suddenly glanced around. “There are probably more pictures around here.”

She headed for the boxes on the side. She opened the one nearest her and gaped at what she saw.

“Isn’t this…?”

She gingerly plucked a purple velvet bodice and held it up in front her. She could remember all too clearly this piece of garment Kyoya had worn when the Zuka Club first tried to take her to Lobelia. It was one of Tamaki’s outrageous schemes, one that made her stomach hurt from laughing. She began to sort through the rest of it and found several clothes that they had worn for the various cosplays they had done. After making sure she was able to fold the clothes neatly and place them back to where they used to be, she straightened up and looked at the remaining packages.

“The others must be full of clothes as well,” she thought vaguely as she walked towards the rest of the boxes. Her eyes were suddenly drawn to the last one, on the other side of the room where it was practically hidden by the rest of the bigger boxes. She found herself moving towards it. She stopped short as she saw the sign written on the side of the box. She cranked her head to the side to read the words printed upside down.

Confidential: Fujioka Haruhi.

An involuntary shudder shook her. Knowing Kyoya could do that to a lot of people. She went down on her knees, gingerly opening it and saw that it was full of folders. She carefully picked one and blinked in surprise as she saw what was inside.

… _Some need to be scrutinized from every angle…_

“My medical records?” She exhaled sharply. “He even asked my father for my medical records?” She began to dread the contents of the other folders but nonetheless, she continued to take the folders out.

… _for every little detail…_

The next folder contained copies of her report cards since she started schooling. The other envelope was full of her pictures from her infant years until middle school. She frowned at the idea of Ranka giving it to Kyoya all too willingly. No wonder she had a hard time looking for it when she needed her baby photos for a project back in high school. It was all in the Ootori’s Storage Room. She reminded herself to talk to Ranka about it.

… _it’s a weapon…_

She did not understand what the following folder was about. All it contained were print out copies of pie charts. There was one for each of the Host Club members, except for her, but almost half of it was all under Kyoya’s name. What it meant, she didn’t know but a little voice inside her head told her she would be better off not knowing.

She stared at the papers inside the next folder. She couldn't believe it. Kyoya had actually kept a couple of files on Arai. She blinked, wondering what he planned to do with it. She began to sort through the other papers and found to her horror that it also contained reports on her male classmates from Ouran and her college. She sighed, muttering something about his paranoia. A formal-looking white envelope suddenly fell from the folder and she cautiously picked it up. At the back was the Ootori mark and she found herself opening it.

The frown on her face deepened as she read what it contained. It was a recommendation letter with her name on it addressed to the University she attended, dating back when she was still in high school. At the end of the letter was Kyoya's signature, written with a flourish. A thought suddenly entered her head.

 _Did Kyoya_ \- ? She shook her head quickly. No. She got in that school because of her scholarship, and not because of anything else, she assured herself. But as she placed the letter back inside the envelope, she couldn't dispel the doubt that lingered at the back of her mind.

… _one that can ultimately lead a person to his downfall…_

The last one sent a sinister feel throughout her body. It was neither a folder nor pictures. It was simply a clipboard, which looked awfully familiar to her. There were papers clipped to it and saw that it was her list of debts back when she was a host – and a really, really long list it was. In fact, everything that was written on it was hers, she managed to notice. The sight brought memories that made her drop the clipboard back inside. (If only she had looked at it more closely, she would have noticed that almost all of the amounts there had an extra zero intentionally written after the original ones.)

She wondered briefly what on earth could Kyoya gain by collecting all these because, really, it almost looked as if he was studying her. She signed resignedly and started to put the things back in the box.

… _or, if tended properly, greatness…_

“Haruhi,” Kyoya called.

She threw everything inside and quickly closed the incriminating box. Just in time. Kyoya suddenly appeared in the doorway.

“Haruhi? There’s a phone call for you.”

She glanced at him. “Y-Yeah.” She walked past him in a rush, averting her gaze. After all, if Kyoya had managed to read her mind regarding what she saw inside, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing the guilt in her eyes. She reached the door and cautiously peeked back at him.

Kyoya was glancing at the boxes suspiciously.

* * *

She was eating normally, he noted as they sat for dinner later that night. Except for the little pallor in her cheeks when she left the storage room, she still acted perfectly normal. (Kyoya made a mental note about changing its location and to remind Haruhi’s secretary to always inform him of her early break from work. He couldn’t risk having her unexpected appearances while he was busy plotting.) He couldn’t help but give a sigh of relief.

Although she was a very intelligent woman, she was pretty oblivious when it came to matters regarding her, and Kyoya had always been happy about that fact. She was too close, very close to realizing what those files in that box symbolized. He watched her take a large bite from the sushi on her plate before pushing his glasses up.

… _It’s all about using it to your advantage and to win in every situation before the other one can use it against you…_

Because if she did, then Kyoya would be losing big time in the game against her.


	8. ATTENTION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was not at all hard to catch Ootori Kyoya’s attention.

 

It was not at all hard to catch Ootori Kyoya’s attention. In fact, one simply needed to be interesting enough, amusing even, to have him take notice. It was the act of maintaining his attention that was difficult, especially if he had little to gain from it, or nothing at all. Everything was still all about merits, Kyoya never denied that fact. After all, his time was far too precious to be wasted on trivial things.

What was surprising was a certain Fujioka – now Ootori – Haruhi. Kyoya had first found her… intriguing, for lack of a better word, since she first stepped inside the Music Room and unluckily broke a vase that was worth more than she could ever imagine. And until now, strangely enough, Kyoya still couldn’t get enough of her. Worthy of a record, actually. After all, there were only a few things in this world that could undoubtedly catch his full and longtime attention: Profits, Power and, now, Haruhi. He paused.

Well, maybe not exactly in that order, Kyoya had to admit. She had qualities that he would always find interesting. Indeed, Haruhi was never a boring subject.

* * *

The first thing that captured Kyoya’s curiosity and made him aware of her unusual charm was her appearance. She never cared to look like anyone else. She was confident in what she wore, no matter what it was she was wearing; and she did not have any qualms about what other people thought of her. She was self-possessed in that manner because she took pride in whatever she had, even if it was less than most people would wish for, still standing tall over anyone else. And for a commoner, Kyoya noted, that was very interesting.

*****

Kyoya found her in the Ootori Library, standing on top of a ladder while holding a paintbrush. He had reminded her days ago, that nothing really needed to be changed inside the Mansion – a renowned interior designer was the one who chose all the styles after all – but she had stubbornly told him that the Library needed repainting. (“But white walls are too dull, Kyoya,” she had pointed out. “It makes you feel you’re confined in a hospital.”) So after refusing Kyoya’s offer to call for professional workers, she volunteered to do the job herself, assuring him that he would even find the Library more appealing than before. She finally noticed him leaning against the door. She stopped and gave him a smile.

“Kyoya, how was your trip?” she greeted.

“It was fine.” He glanced at the brush on her hand. “Are you done in here?”

“Yes.” She carefully went down the stepladder and walked over to where he was. She looked at her masterpiece proudly. “I’ve decided to paint a picture. I just thought that this room would be too boring. So I drew a garden with a couple of mountains over there,” she gestured around the wall, pointing as she explained her work. “Oh, and I added river by that side.” She glanced at him.

“I hope it’s all right with you Kyoya,” she murmured.

Kyoya stared at the colorful squiggles on the wall, wondering where in the world were the forms of nature that she was talking about. Kyoya had been to different museums around the world and he knew how to appreciate art in whatever form it was done. But his intellectual mind drew blank as he gaped at the wall.

“Kyoya?” she repeated, an obvious stiffness growing in her tone.

But Kyoya, being the smart person that he was, merely pushed his glasses up. “Of course it is, Haruhi,” he replied smoothly. “You can do whatever you want.” At the back of his mind he made a little note to advice his father not to go into the Library when he came to visit, in order to avoid any emergencies that would include a hospital. Ootori Yoshio was fond of the place.

She looked pleased and wiped her brow from sweat with the back of her hand. Kyoya’s eyes were drawn to her. Her brown hair was tied messily in a bun, her working clothes were splattered with fresh paint. There was a streak of green on her cheek – probably from her own version of a garden – and he wondered if it could still be removed from her skin. The new sneakers he had bought from Germany were smeared with dried red paint and the back of her jumper was soaking wet from her perspiration. Kyoya stared at her a little longer than he wanted to. She caught his gaze and beamed at him.

It’s really a mystery to him how she could manage to look so beautiful in the most demanding situation.

* * *

She has a heart of gold and a sense of innocence that was strikingly different from Kyoya’s demeanor. But then, this sense of innocence, unfortunately, did not include being discreet. Kyoya often wondered how he had managed to cope with her bluntness all this time. Not that he did not gain from it – Kyoya can turn almost any problem to his advantage – but it still bugged him sometimes.

*****

“So,” the plump female reporter began, trying very much to keep up with Kyoya’s quick pace out of the lobby. “What do you feel about all the rumors that your father, Ootori Yoshio – a very respectable man, in my opinion – chose you to be his heir, only because he is losing his grip? That is to say, his age is finally keeping up with him, thus he was said to be forced to overlook your brothers in favor of you.” She paused, letting her words to sink in. “What do you want to tell all your detractors?”

Kyoya surveyed her through his glasses, his eyebrow slightly raised. He knew for a fact that this certain reporter was the one who had been spreading all those rumors, as she had put it, in her newspaper column. He gave her an indulgent smile.

“I don’t have anything to explain,” Kyoya replied calmly as he continued walking, the reporter still on his heels. “Although I would like to assure you that my father is in a very good condition. I have never seen him as healthy as he is now.”

“I see,” she said politely, albeit with a trace of skepticism underlying in her tone. She wrote furiously everything he had said in her little notebook. “Well, what about the issue of your incapacity to take over the family’s business? There are talks that your brothers, who have been in this company longer than you did, would have been the better choice for the head of this Empire. Would you say that you regret being the chosen one now that – ?”

“I do not regret anything,” Kyoya answered still in that calm, tolerant voice. “I am my father’s son and I have full confidence in my abilities as the Ootori heir. I daresay my father does too, that is why he chose me. And for his reasons in preferring me, I have nothing to do with it. All of us – my brothers and I – were all treated equally by my father and I am sure that we all have done our best to prove our worth. Now, if you’ll kindly excuse me, I have a meeting to go to.” With that, he nodded curtly at her, before getting inside his waiting limo, leaving her behind before she could harass him with more questions. Not a second later, his secretary, Izumi, sat across him. He settled comfortably on the car’s seat as they began to move.

“Kyoya-sama,” Izumi started in an awed voice. “I’m amazed you could keep your patience with her. She’s so… ” She trailed off. “How could you answer all her questions so easily, sir?”

Haruhi’s face suddenly appeared clearly in Kyoya’s mind. He quietly pushed the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose and smiled at Izumi wryly.

“I’ve heard worse.”

* * *

Her insight and intelligence were also intriguing. She can read people and see through them so easily, he couldn’t fathom how she could do it. And her commoner wisdom, ah yes. Her commoner wisdom was worth mentioning.

******

Kyoya never felt as helpless as he did that day. He was sitting on the bed, the fluffy pillows arranged comfortably behind him. A thick blanket was wrapped around his shoulders and when he sneezed, it left his pale face with a very red nose. He sniffed with as much dignity as an Ootori heir could muster, silently wincing at the terrible headache that was drilling in his brain. And it definitely did not help ease his mood when Haruhi intentionally hid his cellular phone to keep him away from doing any work. He flexed his limp, empty hand.

Ah yes. He felt utterly helpless.

He looked up as Haruhi walked over to the side of the bed and gently placed a glass of water on the bedside table. Kyoya took the thermometer Haruhi had forced in his mouth a minute ago and looked at her.

“Haruhi,” he began in a hoarse voice. “If you don’t hurry up, you’re going to be late for work.” She whipped around, frowned slightly at him and took the thermometer from his hand. “I’ll be all right. After all, what’s the use of owning a hospital if I’m not going to use it?” he continued, giving a long, weary sigh. “Besides, I really don’t believe in your commoner ways of curing. I’d rather have myself checked by a real doctor. Someone who knows exactly what he is doing and studied it for many years. And I don’t think – ”

Whatever else Kyoya was thinking at the time, she never knew. Haruhi swiftly cut him off by thrusting the thermometer back in his mouth. Forcibly.

“I’m not going anywhere Kyoya. If I leave you for a minute, you’re going to go back to work. You need rest and I’m going to make sure you’re going to have one. So just relax. I know what I’m doing.”

Kyoya replied something undecipherable, the offending thermometer still in his mouth.

“Yes, I know,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “But do you honestly think I’m going to work when you’re so sick? I’d rather miss a case than leave you right now.” She glanced at the clock before facing him again. She took the thermometer, checked its result, and then handed Kyoya a blue tablet.

“Our commoner ways of curing,” she echoed, raising an eyebrow, “isn’t that all different from yours.” She watched as he drank the medicine, blinking as he made a face at the bitter taste. She helped him lie down on the bed, arranging the pillows as he did so. “How else do you think I survived until now?”

“Sheer luck,” Kyoya murmured as he settled himself comfortably.

Haruhi twitched. She leaned down and pulled the blanket over him. She paused, then planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Commoners are smarter than you think, Kyoya,” she said as she turned around. Kyoya watched her leave the room, feeling a warm tingling sensation on his forehead that he was absolutely sure has nothing to do with the fever he has. He would never admit it, but he knew he wouldn’t have chosen a better person to take care of him other than Haruhi. He closed his eyes to sleep.

 _Commoners are smarter than you think_.

Considering that he was married to a Fujioka Haruhi, Kyoya knew he couldn’t argue with that.

* * *

And of course, how could he possibly forget her passion for food? A quality that Kyoya had found useful in many situations. Very, _very_ useful.

******

“A bag of kimchi,” Kyoya offered. Haruhi glared at him.

“No.”

“Two?”

“Kyoya, I’m trying to concentrate here. I have an important case right now. I need all the information I can get,” she retorted through gritted teeth. She stared at the bulky book in front her. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Bribery. And emotional blackmail.” Haruhi frowned at him. “I can sue you, you know.”

Ah, the pitfalls of marrying a brilliant lawyer. Kyoya raised an eyebrow slightly. “You’re being unreasonable, Haruhi,” he replied as he walked over to where she was. He glanced at the book she was so intent on studying, admittedly curious on the new case she was handling. He peered over her shoulder and read the title on the top of the page.

_Chapter 5: Grounds for Divorce._

Kyoya suddenly straightened up, calmly adjusting his glasses that had became clouded. He paused, trying to weigh his options. His stubbornness won.

“Okay. You got me. Two bags of kimchi and a box of cake for dessert.” He smiled disarmingly at her. “How does that sound?”

Ootori Kyoya was defiantly ignored.

“It’s just one time, Haruhi.”

“I don’t like being interviewed by the press. They exaggerate things and doesn’t write the truth as it is.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t like them.”

“I completely understand. I’ve been victim of their atrocious writings before too,” he told her smoothly. Haruhi resisted the urge to snort. Like Kyoya would ever become a victim. “But how about if I add sushi for tonight’s dinner and crabs for tomorrow’s lunch?”

She sighed. “Is this what how you deal with your business associates? You don’t accept no for an answer, do you Kyoya?”

He blinked innocently at her.

“Fine. I’ll do the interview with you,” she reluctantly told him. “But I have to see the article first. And then I’ll decide if they can publish it. Libel is a very heavy case.”

“That’s all right,” he agreed. “And you can even mention your obscure law firm in the interview. That would help too, wouldn’t it? A free advertisement. I’m sure your boss would love that.”

She grunted. He smiled as he walked away from her, his hand already on his phone.

“Kyoya?”

“Yes, Haruhi?”

She struggled to maintain her dignity but regrettably failed. “I’d rather have the crabs tonight,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze. He pushed his glasses up as he hid a smile.

“Of course. Anything you say.”

* * *

Kyoya smiled at the memory, recalling very well how the interview went smoothly, resulting in a favorable response from the people both from the two sides of the society. The only problem was that he did have a slight stomachache after that, but it was quickly remedied. Miraculously, Haruhi did not have any indigestion. Probably one of the tricks she learned as a commoner. He should really not underestimate their abilities.

But what really captured Kyoya’s attention to her was because Haruhi is… well, Haruhi. And not even his money or power could ever change that. She treats him like any ordinary person, and Kyoya knew he should be insulted. He’s the Ootori heir, for crying out loud. She should be scared of him, revere him, really. But he had learned early on that there was no such thing like that in her vocabulary. So being the resilient person he is, he turned her indifference to him as a game, which he found very much refreshing.

*****

Haruhi looked at the velvet box Kyoya had gently placed in her hand. She opened it and saw a sparkling diamond ring, so beautiful and brilliant even she couldn’t help but admire it. She stared at it quietly.

The silence that hung between them was so deep, not even a sword could penetrate through it. Kyoya wondered if he was too fast. But they have been together for so long now that he honestly thought it was time.

“Haruhi?”

She blinked at him. “Kyoya?”

His heart began to beat faster. _This is it_ , he thought. It still amazed him how only Haruhi could make him feel like this. “Yes,” he gently prompted.

“Are you selling this to me?” she asked, genuinely confused. “Because you know, I absolutely have no money to buy this right now.”

Kyoya stared at her for the briefest moment before his glasses suddenly become opaque.

“No, I’m not selling it to you,” he said calmly. “See, this is an Ootori heirloom, passed on to our family since the late 1800’s. The heir of the Ootori Empire gets to have this treasure and no amount of money could be given for its sentimental value.” He took a deep breath. “And besides, I already know you cannot possibly afford something like this, even if you work for the rest of your life. Whatever made you think of that?”

“Ah,” she said, although he was sure that she still doesn’t get the whole point. He never thought he would resort to this but –

He took the box from her and went down on one knee. He gently held her hand.

“Kyoya,” she gasped.

Finally.

“What are you doing?” she asked exasperated. “You’re going to have your clothes dirtied and then your pants is going to wear out – ” Haruhi paled – “and you’ll probably blame me again for it and then I have to go with you to some social function and I won’t have time for my new case again and – ”

Kyoya’s eyebrow twitched ever so slightly, but the rest of his face betrayed nothing of his emotions. “And to think you topped the bar exam,” he muttered under his breath. He slowly stood up. Kyoya placed one hand on her lower back as he pulled her close - the box digging in his palm - as he gave her a lingering kiss, deepening it, making sure his point would finally, _finally_ get through her. He slowly pulled back, got the ring inside the box and met her confused eyes.

“Fujioka Haruhi,” he began, his voice low. “Will you marry me?”

She stared at him, brown eyes beginning to clear. For a moment he suddenly wondered if she’s going to reject him and the thought scared him more than anything else. But then, she blinked and quickly brought her closed fist down her open palm.

“Ahh,” she said brightly, comprehension dawning on her face. She cocked her head to the side as her finger touched her cheek. “So this is what it’s all about.”

Kyoya glanced at the night sky, silently asking Heaven if he’s making the right decision in marrying this woman.

“But why me?” she asked, finger still on her cheek.

He stared at her. _Because you’re more beautiful than you would ever know. Because your intelligence is something I can be proud of. Because of the way you speak your mind. Because you alone can get past through my defenses. Because you’re the only one I would dare risk my reputation for. And because you’re the woman I know I want to spend my life with._

But there were just some things in life that Ootori Kyoya could never say out loud.

“Because you’re you,” he told her truthfully, and left it that.

“Hnnn…” she murmured. She stared off at the space above his shoulder, forehead crunched in concentration. Kyoya twitched. How long does she plan to let him wait?

“Yes,” she finally said, her eyes blinking blankly at him. He slowly met her gaze. “Ootori Kyoya, I would love to marry you.” Then, she smiled.

And Kyoya smiled back.

* * *

Being married to Haruhi would always be interesting. Even after all this time, she still never fails to surprise him. Kyoya paused, wondering if he’ll still find her as intriguing as she was when he first met her, even when they’re already old and cranky. A smile crept up his face.

Actually, there’s no need for him to hurry in knowing. He has the rest of their lives together to find that out.


	9. NINE MONTHS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruhi is pregnant and Kyoya is being... well, Kyoya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize you cannot get the sex of the baby on the third month but let's just go with this, shall we? :)

 

**FIRST MONTH**

Kyoya knew there was something special bound to happen. His Ootori instinct had never failed him before, but somehow he couldn’t quite seem to put a finger on what that something was. Perhaps it had something to do with Haruhi’s recent unusual food cravings (not that her appetite was ever normal, but still). Or maybe her mood swings that were happening more frequently (“What do you mean we don’t have any ootoro left, Kyoya? I just ate one this morning!”) Or maybe because of the fact that she had been throwing up early in the morning these past few days (Kyoya told her that it’s was probably all because of her appetite and suggested that maybe she should stop pouring honey over all her seafood dishes. “It is quite disgusting,” he said. Haruhi simply ignored him.)

Yes, for the first time in his life, Kyoya was not sure what was wrong. And like any normal husband, he decided that maybe it was time to seek medical help. After all, anyone who could stomach Haruhi’s weird cravings had to be sick.. He was sure of it.

* * *

**SECOND MONTH**

Kyoya could not believe his ears. He stared at the doctor sitting in front him.

“Could you repeat that again, doctor?” Kyoya said, not taking his eyes off Haruhi who was sitting beside him.

“Your wife is pregnant, Kyoya-sama. Congratulations,” the doctor repeated cheerfully.

Silence.

Haruhi beamed at him, her face brightening. “Didn’t you hear that Kyoya? You’re going to be a father!”

“I am?”

She nodded.

It took a few seconds before that fact could sink in. When it did, the most beautiful smile filled Ootori Kyoya’s face.

Father. Kyoya’s going to be a father. To a child. His child.

He pushed his glasses up and reached out to touch Haruhi’s flat stomach. “Haruhi,” he said, not bothering to hide his excitement, “that is the best news I’ve ever heard.”

* * *

**THIRD MONTH**

Tamaki took the ultrasound picture that Kyoya had handed him and stared at it intently.

“It’s a boy,” Tamaki guessed after a whole minute of scrutiny.

“Yes,” Kyoya agreed. Tamaki beamed delightfully. “Yes, he is.”

“Oh Kyoya, he is so beautiful!” Tamaki gushed as he pointed at the picture. “He is a marvelous work of art! A prince among princes! A diamond pearl in a treasure box! He is truly destined to follow his parents’ footsteps in becoming a world-class host to provide beauty and –“

Haruhi immediately looked up from the book she was reading. “Host?” She repeated in alarm. “Who’s going to be a host?”

“– culture in this world. No woman will ever feel lonely, ever again! And I – yes, I, Suoh Tamaki, vows to impart all my knowledge to this unborn fruit of your loins –”

“Who is he going to impart his knowledge to, Kyoya?” Haruhi demanded, staring at her husband.

“– and together we will bring purity and love –”

“To our child, I think,” Kyoya replied as he pushed his glasses up.

“– because we shall not let the noble mission of the Host Club be put into oblivion –”

“No son of mine will become a host,” Haruhi protested as she touched her stomach protectively. “He will not do anything as stupid and superficial as that.”

“– following the tradition of everything we have worked hard for –”

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea. This might actually be a good starting ground for our son to develop his business skills,” Kyoya said impassively. “Oh, and his social interaction too, I guess.”

“Kyoya…” Haruhi twitched. “You’re already planning how he’s going to earn money, aren’t you?”

“– for he truly is Kyoya’s son, with his dark brooding eyes, smooth jaw line and sharp nose. And of course –”

“Haruhi,” Kyoya deadpanned, his eyes gleaming and a crafty grin tugging at his mouth. “I am not planning anything like that.”

“– and, oh, what joy! He inherited Kyoya’s perfect set of teeth and his soft skin –”

Haruhi sighed. “You are truly something, Kyoya,” she said tiredly.

“– and if we look more closely, we can see that he has the same cheekbones as his father –”

“And just so you know, Tamaki,” Haruhi cut in as she turned to face him, her patience obviously wearing out, “you’ve got the picture upside down. That’s not the set of teeth he inherited from Kyoya. You’re looking at his feet.”

Silence.

“Oh,” Tamaki said brightly, flipping the picture around. “So that’s why he looks strange.”

Kyoya hid his amusement by pushing his glasses up.

* * *

**FOURTH MONTH**

“How about Murasaki?” Kyoya suggested.

“No.”

“Yamajori?”

“No.”

“Takenori?”

“Can’t you think of anything more… I don’t know… shorter and easier to remember?” Haruhi asked.

Kyoya paused thoughtfully.

“Aoi?”

“Too short.”

“I thought you wanted it to be shorter.”

“Too short,” she repeated.

Kyoya sighed. “Well then, you think up of a name.”

Haruhi frowned, her eyes staring at the wall across the couch they were sitting on.

“Well?” he asked. Haruhi smiled.

“I know.”

* * *

**FIFTH MONTH**

“I was really happy when I heard the news,” Fuyumi said during dinner. She smiled as she looked around the table where the whole Ootori family – including Haruhi – were sitting at. “It’s going to be a boy, isn’t it?”

Kyoya nodded. “We are actually planning to buy his things real soon. I’ve already asked an interior designer to look at the guest room beside ours. We’re going to convert it into a nursery.”

Fuyumi’s face brightened. “Oh, that’s a great idea… Kyoya,” she said hopefully. “Do you want me to help you fix the nursery? I’ve been reading a lot of do-it-yourself magazines for domesticated housewives –”

Kyoya’s eyeglasses clouded as a flashback of Fuyumi’s attempt to be a domesticated housewife crossed his mind. He pushed his glasses up.

“– and I think I have a lot of contributions to make.” She smiled at him.

“I appreciate the offer, Nee-san,” he began. “I really do. But all the preparations are… finished. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Oh.” Her face fell in disappointment. “That’s too bad.” Although there was no doubt in Kyoya’s mind that they would be better off without her help.

“Kyoya,” Ootori Yoshio spoke from the end of the table. Kyoya looked at him. “I suppose you have thought up of a name already?”

“Yes father.”

“It should be a name that will show the Ootori’s strength, pride and intelligence, of course,” the former head of the Ootori Empire continued sternly. “He will, after all, lead the new generation of this family. A name says everything about a person, Kyoya. I hope you haven’t forgotten that.”

“No, I haven’t father. In fact we are very happy with the name we’ve chosen.”

“Oh? And what is it?”

“Yoshio,” Kyoya replied. “Ootori Yoshio. We decided to name him after you.”

Silence.

Kyoya glanced at Haruhi who was busy eating. “Haruhi is the one who thought of it, actually.” Haruhi looked up at the sound of her name. Yoshio looked at her with those piercing dark eyes and she met his gaze unblinkingly.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Haruhi,” Yoshio finally said, unable to hide his surprise.

“Oh no,” she replied truthfully. “I think it’s a beautiful name. And Kyoya and I both agreed that if we want our son to be a strong, intelligent and a courageous person when he grows up, then why not name him after you?”

Ootori Yoshio blinked. Haruhi smiled.

“And besides,” she continued vaguely after a thoughtful pause, “Yoshio is by far the most normal name that we’ve thought of. It’s better than all those weird names Kyoya wanted to use.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Ah.” Yoshio blinked again, but this time a small smiled played on his lips as he watched Haruhi and Kyoya, both of whom returned to their dinner. “I see.”

“Oooh, I hope he becomes a pianist,” Fuyumi suddenly said enthusiastically. “I heard that once a child is exposed to classical music at an early age, he’s going to be a prodigy.”

“He’s going to be a businessman,” Akito declared. “The Ootori blood runs in his veins after all.”

Haruhi suddenly stared at him, her brows furrowed in deep thought.

“Or he could be a politician,” Kyoya’s other brother suggested. “He could be the next Prime Minister of Japan.”

“No Ootori has ventured into politics before. That is a very good idea,” Yoshio agreed.

“Haruhi,” Fuyumi said as she faced her. “What do you want Yoshio to become?”

“Eh?” She looked at Fuyumi distractedly, taking her gaze off Akito. “Whatever he wants to do I’ll just be there to support him.”

“Don’t you have any wish for him at all?” Fuyumi persisted.

“Any wish?” Haruhi repeated.

Fuyumi nodded.

“Well,” Haruhi gulped down her orange juice before answering. “If I could have one wish for my son, it’s that I hope he’s not going to be an AB blood type.”

For the second time that night, there was silence around the table. Everyone paused and stared at her. Surely she didn’t just say what they think she did; because when you think about it, almost everyone sitting at that table had that blood type.

“Why is that, Haruhi?” Fuyumi asked curiously.

“Oh, because Kyoya’s an AB blood type,” she replied, shrugging.. “Not that I have anything against any of you,” she added as she looked around the table. “It’s just Kyoya is…”

Haruhi trailed off, as if remembering something, then shuddered. She went back to her plate. “Well. One Kyoya in the family is enough, I guess.”

All heads - besides Haruhi that is – turned to look at Kyoya, who was calmly eating his dinner. He gently wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked up to meet their bewildered gazes. He looked unperturbed by the whole situation; in fact he even looked bored, like these things normally happened.

“It’s the hormones,” Kyoya finally said as a way of explanation while adjusting his glasses. “Pregnant women sometimes do not know what they are talking about.”

Beside him, Haruhi reached out for another serving of ootoro.

* * *

**SIXTH MONTH**

Haruhi did a double take as she entered the OotoriMansion. The normal sight of servants were gone, and instead about twenty people wearing white robes, gloves and face masks were all running around, holding a can and spraying it at every corner of the house. She tried hard not to be noticed by them, which was difficult considering the fact that they were swarming around her and her bulging stomach, but she eventually reached the hallway and made it to their bedroom without interruption. And then, she froze.

A small antechamber was constructed right in front of their bedroom door with a strange foam-like carpet lying on the floor. A complicated-looking machine stood at the corner and a man, also wearing that same uniform she had seen earlier, was standing behind it. She blinked.

“Eh…” Haruhi began. The man looked up. “What is that?”

“Ah, Haruhi-sama. Kyoya-sama is waiting for you inside,” he said as he gestured for her to enter but she remained rooted to the ground.

“What is that?” she repeated. Because from the looks of it, she would have to pass through that… strange carpet and that – blinking machine. And Heaven knows what that could do to her.

“Oh, this.” The man suddenly looked proud. “It’s the latest device from Germany, Haruhi-sama,” he explained as he pointed at the machine. “A machine that scans for any electronic signals, checks for any virus and bacteria that a person might have picked up outside – the carpet foam kills them – and has an identity scanner to verify that you are indeed who you say you are. Kyoya-sama does not want to risk allowing impersonators to enter this room. It’s the only one of its kind here in Japan.”

Impersonators… –? Haruhi twitched.

The man smiled at her. “Kyoya-sama is waiting for you inside,” he repeated. Haruhi frowned then cautiously walked forward. She stepped on the carpet foam and a red laser beam ran through her. There was a 3D representation of her on the screen’s machine and a window suddenly popped up, containing all medical information about her. Confirmed: Ootori Haruhi, it read.

“You’re all clear to enter,” the man told her cheerfully.

“Ah.” Well, it was good to know that she is indeed Ootori Haruhi and not some impostor. Maybe not all people could remember their identity, or something. The man opened the door for her and she went inside.

The sight that greeted her was no different from the one when she entered the house. About a dozen people were running around the bedroom, still wearing that same white uniform. She saw Kyoya standing by the window, surveying them as they worked, holding a clipboard in hand. She walked up to him.

“What is this all about?” she asked.

“Well.” Kyoya adjusted his glasses. “I’ve been doing a lot of research Haruhi, and I found out that a baby is more prone to illness during the start of the mother’s last trimester. Because he is still starting to develop himself, he still lacks the immunity to fight off certain viruses and bacteria that might cause him harm. So, I’ve decided to conduct safety measures.”

“Safety… Measure,” she repeated slowly.

“Yes. As you can see,” Kyoya motioned around the room. “I’m keeping the whole Mansion under complete sanitation. In fact, the other workers have already started with the kitchen, on account of you always going there. They are using anti-infection sprays, so you can be sure that anything you touch in this house will be absolutely free of germs.”

Haruhi blinked.

“The machine you saw outside is one of my ideas,” he continued pleasantly. “Not only will it ensure the cleanliness of the person coming in, but also our safety as well. I don’t know if you noticed its identity scanner feature, but it will prevent any… unwanted person from entering this room.”

Well, she definitely noticed that. She paused to watch a couple of men change the bed sheets with utmost care. “Kyoya, don’t you think you’re…” she trailed off.

“Brilliant?” he put in helpfully. “Being a good father?”

“Overreacting?” Haruhi finished..

“Overreacting?” Kyoya echoed. He shook his head. “No, I think not. I mean just think about all those people you encounter everyday. All of those mouth-breathers are carriers of disease, Haruhi. And while I admire the commoner’s ability to withstand certain bacteria and viruses, our son Yoshio might, unfortunately, not inherit your useful immune system. So as early of now, I want to ensure the health of our child - the future of the Ootori - and of yours as well.”

She stared. “Oh, Kyoya,” she sighed, too tired to feel insulted or to say anything longer than that.

“Yes, I know it is pretty ingenious. No one has thought of it before –”

Haruhi could guess why.

“– but I will not hesitate to do these things for my child especially since it is for his own good.”

Haruhi began to massage her temples. “You are giving me a headache,” she said tiredly as she walked over to the couch on the corner.

“Are you going to sit down on that Haruhi?” Kyoya wanted to know.

She frowned. “Am I not allowed to?”

“Just hold on a minute.” Kyoya snapped his fingers, and three men rushed forward and began spraying their anti-infection formula all over the couch. Within seconds, the couch was left sparkling clean.

“You may sit down now,” he told her. Haruhi took a deep breath before flopping down on the newly sanitized couch.

Haruhi wondered what other measures Kyoya could come up next. She sighed. She would be very relieved once all of this is over. Very.

* * *

**SEVENTH MONTH**

It was already past nine in the evening and the Baby Shower Party that Fuyumi had organized was still in full swing. Haruhi looked around after opening all of the gifts that guests had given them. Kyoya had even written it down on his notebook for posterity:

Hitachiin Hikaru and Hitachiin Kaoru – two large boxes of Hitachiin-created clothes – one package full of baby clothes, the other for Haruhi containing maternity dresses. (Almost all were in pink and had frills, much to Haruhi’s horror.)

Morinozuka Takeshi – a package of baby toys, ranging from rattles, plastic basketballs to musical instruments.

Haniozuka Mitskuni – a stuffed bunny (which looked awfully a lot like his own Usa-chan) and a set of hygienic products – a set of baby toothbrush and Honey’s favorite brand of toothpaste. (Haruhi later learned that the stuffed bunny was supposedly Usa-chan’s older brother. How that happened, she didn’t bother to ask.)

Hoshakuji Renge- a set of children’s video games.

Suoh Tamaki - car keys (Haruhi reminded Tamaki that Yoshio is far too young to drive and that it will take eighteen years before she would allow her son to drive on his own. So Tamaki decided to give him another gift instead.)

Suoh Tamaki – a Five-part guidebook series on “How to be the Perfect Host” (Tamaki proudly informed them that he authored it himself. He even offered his first ever guidebook, something he had written when they were in Karuizawa, helping Haruhi on her summer job. )

Kasanoda Ritsu – a couple of puppies. (Kyoya thanked him, then secretly called in his Sanitation-Men to ensure that the dogs were properly vaccinated and be given a full bath. The last thing that they needed was the house to be a breeding ground for fleas and canine saliva..)

Nekozawa Umehito – a replica of Beelzenef (“For Yoshio-kun’s protection,” Nekozawa told the couple), a black cloak (“We will be waiting for the time Yoshio-kun decides to embrace the darkness”) and a thick, dusty, black book with the title “Curses for your Enemies” engraved on the cover. (Kyoya was already on the second chapter when Haruhi caught him. She immediately hid the book, much to his disappointment.)

Haruhi sighed, overwhelmed by the night’s chaos, and sat on one of the couches in the Ootori Hall where the party was taking place. Haruhi was grateful for their kindness, she really was, but being pregnant made her tire so easily nowadays. She closed her eyes and leaned back.

Kyoya, who was busy maintaining order in the party, finally noticed her. After giving out a few reminders (“Renge-kun, please do not make fun of Tamaki’s book so much. As moronic as the things written in there are, he did spend a lot of time making that,” he called as he walked across the room. He stepped over the rolling bodies of the Hitachiin twins who were laughing so hard at Renge’s comments; an exasperated “Tamaki, didn’t I told you to stop growing mushrooms in this house? I just asked my men to sanitize this place.”; and “Kasanoda-san, you might want to wash your hands after playing with the dogs. Haruhi is susceptible to disease.”; and “Nee-san, kindly stop frightening Nekozawa-san with that flashlight. I told you he’s afraid of light.”; and finally “Nekozawa-san, please step out of that closet now. It’s still under sanitation.”), Kyoya finally reached Haruhi.

“Haruhi?” He asked as he sat beside her, away from the noise of the party. She opened her eyes.

“I’m all right, Kyoya. Just feeling tired, I guess,” she replied sighing. Kyoya watched her for a moment before he hesitatingly guided her head to rest on his shoulder.

“Better?” he asked. She nodded before closing her eyes again. “Do you want me to ask them to leave?”

“No,” she replied wearily. “They’re having fun. Let’s just let them be for a while.”

For the next minutes, they just sat there quietly with Kyoya watching the party, and Haruhi resting against him.

“He’s going to be very lucky,” Haruhi suddenly murmured. Kyoya glanced at her..

“Who?”

“Yoshio. He’s very lucky to have all these people caring for him.”

Kyoya paused. He reached out a hand and stroked Haruhi’s bulging stomach. “Yes,” he agreed. “Very lucky.” And because he thought that no one was looking at them, Kyoya let his chin rest against Haruhi’s head. He’d have to deal with the insanity of the party later, he decided. But for now… he closed his eyes to let them rest.

*

The party ended two hours later, but the couple was not even aware of it. They had fallen asleep on the couch, with Kyoya’s arms around Haruhi, looking very, very peaceful.

* * *

**EIGHTH MONTH**

He found her standing by the window, quietly staring outside.

“Haruhi?” Kyoya crossed the room and walked up to her. “Is there something wrong? Is Yoshio kicking again?”

She shook her head as she touched her stomach. “Not anymore.”

“Then what is it?”

Haruhi let out a sigh. “I was thinking how Yoshio is going to look a lot like you,” she told him in a disappointed tone.

He paused. “And is there something wrong with that?” he asked in composed uncertainty.

“Well, that would mean that he’s going to break a lot of hearts too when he grows up, wouldn’t it?”

Kyoya blinked. He fell silent as he watched her stroking her stomach absent-mindedly, gaze resting outside the window.

“Haruhi,” Kyoya began casually, making sure his voice was devoid of any emotion, “did I ever break yours?”

“Most of the time,” she replied, blinking. “But you would always make it up to me somehow, so I guess it’s all right.”

Kyoya fell silent for a moment before he quietly walked up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, from the back, his hands resting on her stomach. He took a deep breath, inhaling her sweet scent before letting go of her reluctantly. He turned her around so she could face him. She blinked at him.

“Kyoya?”

“I’m sorry,” he said before he could stop himself. She frowned.

“For what?”

“For everything. And thank you.”

“For what?” Haruhi repeated.

“For everything.”

She stared at him. “You’re weird,” she commented.

Kyoya smiled. He leaned forward and gently lifted her chin and he kissed her. He didn’t try to pull her close because he doesn’t want to squash the baby, but they stood there, with him leaning over her as his lips pressed against hers. After a while, Haruhi slowly pulled back and stared at him for a moment.

“You really are strange today, Kyoya,” she finally said.

Kyoya merely smiled again.

* * *

**NINTH MONTH**

“What are you doing, Kyoya?” Haruhi asked as she paused from folding the baby clothes the twins had given them.

“I’m trying to decide what stocks to buy for Yoshio,” Kyoya replied as he turned the page of the newspaper on his hands.

She blinked. “Stocks?” she echoed. “As in market stocks?”

“Yes,” Kyoya pointed at one of the articles. “This showed that investing on technology stocks is the most popular choice nowadays. But I’m still considering telecommunications or media. What do you think?”

“I think you’re going into this too soon,” she replied, rubbing her right temple. “Our son hasn’t even been born yet, but you’re already thinking about that.”

“We should start considering it as early now. It is for his future after all.”

Haruhi was about to answer when she suddenly gasped and touched her stomach. A trail of water seeped down her legs. “Oh God, please,” she gasped, clutching her belly. “Not now. It’s too soon.”

“We should do it right now, Haruhi,” Kyoya disagreed, unaware of his wife’s situation. “I was actually thinking of investing on researches on nuclear weapons – ” He saw the pained expression on Haruhi’s face. “Not,” he added quickly, “because I approve of using it, but when you think about it, it’s not such a bad idea, I mean, we do have to – ”

“Kyoya,” she cut in through gritted teeth.

“I know it’s not right,” Kyoya agreed, pushing his glasses, “but we have to be practical about these things. And I know a lot of people who are, well, willing to help us out. To tell you the truth Haruhi, I’ve always been interested in the weapons of mass destruction – ”

“Kyoya!” Haruhi shrieked, practically grabbing the bed comforter for support.

“I told you it’s not bec – ” Kyoya turned to look at her. He froze. “Haruhi… your waterbag broke?”

“Because… stocks,” she panted, beads of perspiration falling from her forehead, “plans… for… destruction…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded as he dropped the newspaper and rushed to her side. In one sweeping motion, Kyoya carried Haruhi in his arms – complete with the extra pounds in her womb and all – and hurried down the stairs.

******

After three hours of listening to the nurses who kept on entering the room to check her condition (“Why do they sound so darn cheerful?” Kyoya growled darkly, glaring at a particular nurse who told them that Haruhi is doing just good, when Kyoya could perfectly observe that Haruhi wasn’t. Kyoya made a mental note not to let that person work in Japan again), of seeing Haruhi writhing in pain (“I’m never going to do this with you again, Kyoya,” she cried as she gripped his hand tightly. Kyoya pretended he did not hear that one), and having everybody stay outside the room as Haruhi went into labor (The twins were reprimanded by the Hospital security after getting caught as they tried to enter the delivery room, posing as doctors), the long, nine-months of waiting was finally over. A piercing, high-pitched cry coming from a wailing baby filled the entire room and Kyoya could only stare as the doctor swaddled his son in a blanket.

He could not remember whether he had answered Haruhi’s hoarse question of “What’s his blood type?” In fact, Kyoya could not remember everything too clearly. All he could think about was the newborn baby being gently placed on Haruhi’s tired outstretched arms, looking blissfully happy. Haruhi looked at him, her eyes shining. Kyoya smiled at her as the realization sunk in.

Ootori Yoshio, Kyoya and Haruhi’s firstborn child, was born.

* * *

**THE END.**


End file.
